Managed (VIP #2)(55)

As soon as we enter the hotel, I leave Jax to his hunting and take the stairs, pushing myself to go faster, harder. My thighs scream in protest, my lungs burning as I pound along. I don’t stop. I want the pain. I want to be so exhausted that my body gives up asking for what it can’t have, and I can go through the day with an ache in my muscles, not my cock.

By the time I get to the room, I’m so spent, I’m nearly stumbling. It’s blissfully Sophie-free in the cool of the room. I grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge as I pace around, my chest heaving. My blood rushes through my ears, my vision a haze as I bumble my way into the bath, drinking as I go.

Shoving my shorts down and toeing off my trainers, I turn to reach for the taps and knock down a small laundry basket sitting on the sink.

I rub the sweat out of my eyes and find myself facing yet another batch of Sophie’s knickers, now scattered all over the floor in a patchwork rainbow of silk.

Fucking f*ck. A pair of little white panties patterned with tiny red cherries rests on my foot. My hand closes around cool silk, and my cock rises so swift and hard, I actually groan.

I’m not prepared; I’m too weak this time. Too f*cking weak to stop myself from lifting the panties to my nose and breathing in deep. A wave of lust slaps through me so hard, my knees nearly give out.

Because these are Sophie’s dirty knickers. And I’m the perverted bastard who’s getting off on the musky scent of Sophie’s *.

Another groan tears out of me as I fall against the cold tile wall. I close my eyes tight, fighting the urge to take another breath. Don’t do it, mate. Drop them and get the hell in the shower.

But I can’t. My cock is so hard it throbs in time with my frantic heartbeat. God, her scent…the tart-sweetness of her perfume lingers, calling the golden hue of her skin to mind. Only this time, I picture her on the bed, wearing noting but these cherry panties, her tits thrust in the air, her thighs spread wide. Just waiting for me to nuzzle between them.

Without my permission, my hand slides over my chest, rubbing those dirty little knickers on my skin, as if I can soak up that scent and make it part of me.

I’m shaking, my breath disjointed and deep as my hand descends. Smooth silk wraps around my cock. I fist it and squeeze my eyes tight as I give myself a hard tug.

Sweat trickles down my stomach, my pulse thrumming on my neck. I jerk at my needy cock, my sore muscles bunching with each pull. It feels so damn good, and not nearly good enough. I almost hate her in this moment. Hate her for making me this needy. Only, I don’t. Not even a little bit.

I want. I want. I want.

It’s a refrain in my mind as I f*ck her panties like some naughty schoolboy. If she knew what I was doing… Heat licks down my spine, up my trembling thighs.

“Gabriel?” The sound on her voice, and the knock on the door, stops my heat.

For a hard second, every muscle freezes. My gaze snaps to the door in horror. I locked it. Didn’t I?

“Are you in there?”

Fuck, don’t try the door.

“Yes!” I shout in a gurgle of desperation. “Christ. Use the other toilet.”

If she opens this door, I’m done for. I’ll have her on her back and my cock balls-deep in her heat in seconds. I almost want that door to open.

Her muffled voice sounds slightly put out and slightly amused. “Testy. I was just going to say I left my laundry in there…”

I look down at the white silk clutched in my fist and the swollen, angry head of my prick peeking out. I shiver and give it a slow stroke, my eyes fluttering in agonized pleasure as I do.

“Go away, Sophie.”

“But…”

“I’m showering.” My free hand fumbles for the taps and turns them on.

“You just turned the water on.”

God, her voice. This is wrong. So wrong. Squeezing my eyes shut, I keep tormenting my knob, denying him the satisfaction of the real thing.

“Can I just step in and get it before you start?”

Already started, love. Why don’t you come in and finish me off?

The image of her lips wrapping around my pulsing head is so vivid, a surge of pre-come leaks onto the panties in my hand. My come on Sophie’s panties. I suck in a breath. “If you don’t move away from this door, I’ll watch my entire collection of Star Trek movies on the next leg of the trip. All thirteen of them.”

I hear a gasp. “That’s just cruel.”

Cruel is f*cking silk when I could be in the real thing. Hot, tight, slick. My teeth grind together.

“There will be a quiz at the end of it,” I say in a strangled voice.

I’d pin Sophie down, question her on all the ways she likes to be pleasured, and then do them one by one. Unable to hold back, I beat myself off hard and fast, biting my lip so she can’t hear me.

“Fine,” she says, oblivious to the tremors wracking me as my balls draw tight and lust sucks me down. “I don’t know why you have to be so snippy.”

Her voice follows me into oblivion. I come in hard jets that splatter over my abs and chest, as I milk every last drop of profane, stolen pleasure I can. I swear I whimper.

Silence rings out on the other side of the door. I sag to my knees and try to catch my breath. Behind me, the shower roars and steam fills the room.

I crawl into the stall and let the hot water wash away my sins. It’s only after I reach for the soap that I realize I’m still clutching her panties as if I’ll never let them go. I swear this woman is going to kill me.